


Good Boy

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: Steter [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Public Sex, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Werewolf Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Peter allowed Stiles to indulge a rape fantasy in which Peter was the victim, Stiles agreed to play it the other way around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mark this as rape/non-con because it IS consensual. Stiles knows exactly how to make this stop if he really has to. That said, there are significant non-con elements, because Stiles and Peter are very good at playing out their fantasies with one another. If simulated rape is an issue for you, this is not the story for you
> 
> Set some time after part one of the series, work titled Good Doggy.

Stiles should have know. Should have realized that Peter was not one to be one-upped, not one to let his pride go unchallenged, especially if it related to creativity and prowess in the bedroom. So, Stiles should have known that whatever he did to Peter, Peter would vastly out-do. He should have known that, and he subsequently should have known better than to offer to be the subject of a fantasy this nerve-wracking.  
  
But here he was, in a dark alley - a real life, dark alley that anyone could enter at any time, and he was pressed face-first into a brick wall with a long trail of way more saliva than seemed human licked up the length of his neck. And god, it was sticky and gross. Very not human. It made Stiles cringe and try to pull away, which was probably exactly the intended effect.   
  
“Get off of me, creep!” Stiles tried to shrug the man off, a feeble attempt. He knew where this was going, but the Stiles who wasn’t consenting, wasn’t deeply in love with the man pinning him, he had no idea. He thought Peter was just being weird and gross and messing with him. 

Teeth pressed to Stiles’s neck, so, so much sharper than a human’s had any right to be. “You’ll keep quiet, boy, or you won’t like what happens.” Peter murmured to him, teeth scraping along the younger man’s flesh as he spoke. “Not that you’re going to be particularly fond of what happens anyway…”  
  
Stiles tried to shrug him off again, harder this time, using his arms as leverage to push himself off the wall as much as possible. It was no use, he was fit, but Peter was powerful. “I told you to get off of me,” but despite his protestation, he had taken the warning seriously. He was quieter this time. It was ignored as he felt a free hand roam down his back and squeeze his ass.   
  
“My wolf wants you, Stiles.”   
  
“Good for it,” he struggled, wriggled, try to find any weak spot in the way he was being held. “I’ll give it a cookie if it backs the fuck off.”   
  
Peter held him tight, and Stiles gained nothing more for his efforts than some superficial scrapes from his face and hands struggling against the rough brick. “This close to the moon… I have to give it what it wants. Can’t sleep or think or function until it’s had what it needs.”   
  
Stiles whined, a sound of genuine fear as it sunk in that he couldn’t get out of this if he wanted to. Even if he wanted to end the scene, he couldn’t actually break free. He just hoped that Peter was exaggerating about his wolf, that despite the moon he could keep it at bay if Stiles needed him to.   
  
The werewolf could smell it, the sudden bolt of actual fear, and he groaned audibly. “Oh, catching on, are we, boy?”   
  
“P- please, Peter, please don’t.” His voice cracked. Now that he had a sliver of real fear, it was easy for him to grab onto it, stretch it and inflate it, make it take over the whole of his mind. He wanted to reek of fear, drown his Alpha’s senses in it, give him as close to the real thing as Peter would ever let himself have.   
  
He snarled, apparently angered by the presumption of begging. “Being a pathetic little bitch about it isn’t going to get you out of this, Stiles. Nothing is going to get you out of this. My wolf gets what it wants.”   
  
The younger man stiffened significantly at the sound, his body as well as his cock going rigid. _Fuck, why do I have to be such a danger slut?_ “Fine, fine,” he half-sobbed. “Just get it over with, then. Just bite me and get it over with.”   
  
“Bite you?” Peter sounded amused and raised an eyebrow, not that Stiles could see it. “No. No, no, baby boy,” he extended his claws and used a pair of them to cut a slit right down the back seam of his victim’s jeans. “I’m not going to bite you, slut. I’m going to _fuck you._ ”   
  
“What?!” it was high pitched and louder than it should have been. He gasped at the sound of fabric being ripped, and tried again to fight, squirm, wriggle, anything to get him out of the position he was in. It was still no use, Peter could hold him down all night if he really wanted to.   
  
“Shh, shh, don’t make me hurt you worse than I’m already going to, boy. The more you fight, the louder you are, the worse all of this will be. So be good, stay quiet, and you might only bleed a little tonight. And if you’re satisfying, I might not feel the need to come back for more.” Peter reached into the gap in Stiles’s pants and ruined his underwear in a similar fashion.   
  
“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet. I’ll be good. Just… just please, please don’t leave any marks that will make Scott ask questions, please. I can’t…” And then he felt it. A slick, awkwardly pointed object shoved up against his hole, jerking awkwardly a time or two before it started to slide in. It didn’t feel quite right, didn’t have the familiar shape of Peter’s cock, and the slickness… it wasn’t their usual brand of lube at the very least. Even the skin felt strange, somehow foreign, but it was definitely skin. Plastic and silicone didn’t feel like this. He whined, half-pained and half-confused as it pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and all was smooth from there. The head didn’t even taper back into the shaft, Stiles noticed, and then he froze. “P- Peter? Peter what is that?” Because no, Stiles knew Peter’s cock better than his own, and this was not that. And if this was a toy… first, why? And second, no, this was not a toy. His voice was a little panicked.   
  
“I told you boy, my _wolf_ wants you.”   
  
Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck, that goddamned bastard of a Hale. Like pretending to rape him in a public place wasn’t one-upping him enough, he had to go and… and do that? “Peter! Peter, stop! Please!” His heart was racing.   
  
Peter kept moving, sliding impossibly deep into Stiles and slowly back out. He brought his teeth to Stiles’s neck again, a silent threat for if he kept being so noisy.

“Peter! Stop, I mean it! Red! Red light! Stop!” Stiles was crying, sobbing the words out.

The word made the werewolf’s chest tight, and he paused for a second. _Red light? We haven’t used generic safe words in months. What the hell is he…_ But then Peter realized, and it made him growl low and deep. He began to move again, hard and fast and vicious, because fuck, he was pissed that Stiles managed to take the game a step farther once again, and fuck he was so fucking good at getting him riled up, pushing all of his buttons just right.   
  
“Peter, what are you doing?! I said red light, stop it, get off of me! Peter, Alpha, please! I don’t want this. Don’t want you transformed!” Stiles had become quite the method actor since he started hanging around with werewolves, had to be if he ever wanted to get away with anything. Filling himself with fear at a time when there was so much to draw on was downright easy. He cried and begged, his heart pounded and his brain flooded him with fight-or-flight chemicals that Peter drank in the scent of. In a technical way, he was truly afraid - terrified even. But he knew damn well that ‘red light’ was not the phrase to make Peter stop.   
  
The werewolf bit down on the soft flesh of Stiles’s neck and brought a hand up to grip his throat, restricting his breath and vocal chords enough to control the incessant noise the boy was making. His knot was swelling before he even fully realized how much he loved this. He pounded Stiles raw, forcing his inflating knot in and out of the poor boy over and over. The boy would hurt, he was sure. He probably wouldn’t be able to fuck him for a week - not safely, anyway. But it would be worth it. And it wasn’t as if this was the first time they’d played so rough.   
  
“Gonna fill you up like a bitch and hold you there, gonna make you take my knot because that’s the only way my wolf knows the job’s been done.” he let up with his teeth, but not his hand. “Don’t act like you don’t like this, boy. You beg for my knot every time I fuck you.” The fantasy had changed. When Stiles called on their long-ago safeword, they were no longer near-strangers. “And you’re always such a slut about it too, always asking me if Scott will be able to smell me on you, always trying to get me to make out with you when Derek might walk in on us. I know how proud you are of being my plaything, bitch boy. I know how much you must love getting fucked right here in an alley.”   
  
Stiles tried to cry out, tried to answer him with ‘no’ and ‘stop’ and ‘Alpha, please, why are you doing this’, but the hold on his throat prevented anything more than a strangled whimper.   
  
“And even if you do hate it, I know you’ll come crawling right back to me anyway, because you’re nothing without me and you know it.” Peter let go of Stiles’s throat, both hands coming to grip his hips now as he got right to the edge. “Wouldn’t you, boy? I’m raping you in a dirty alley and you’ll gratefully clean me off when I’m finished because that’s how pathetic you are, isn’t it boy? Isn’t it?!”   
  
“No!” He sobbed, his head a mess of want and disgust, need and fear. “Stop, Peter, stop! Hurts too much, I can’t take it, please!”

 “Say it!” It was a growl, and echoed too far for their activities to be wholly safe.  
  
Another sob, tears soaking the neck of his shirt. “Yes! Yes, I’ll clean you off, please Peter, please stop. I’ll never leave you but please stop! It’s too much! Please, Alpha, please just- just let me suck you off, please, hurts too much like this!”   
  
That offer, that promise that Peter could wreak atrocities on the boy and he’d still be subservient and needy, fuck, it was perfect. Everything he wanted. He sunk his teeth in once more, a claiming bite rather than a punishing one, and felt his orgasm rock through his body, cock twitching and spasming as it filled Stiles beyond capacity.

 Stiles gave a quiet, relieved cry when he finally felt Peter topple over the edge. It was uncomfortable and painful, and as grateful as he was to have done it, he was quite ready to clean up and go home. Or at the very least, he was ready to get off too.  
  
Once he came down from the high, once his head stopped spinning and he could see straight, he wrapped Stiles up in his arms and showered his neck in kisses. “Good boy. Such a good boy for me, Stiles. So perfect, so much better than I could ever hope for. Fuck, I love you. Love you so much, such a beautiful baby boy for me.” Peter showered Stiles in affection, physical and verbal, until his knot came down enough that he was able to shape shift it away, replacing canine with human features. "Let's go home so I can take care of you like you really deserve. How's that sound, baby boy?"

 With a pleased smile, all fear receded and replaced with pride and joy in his performance, he nodded. "That sounds perfect."


End file.
